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July 31, 2013

Recently, a friend of
mine lost his mother. It was tragic moment, for the call came untimely. Despite
his stoic attitude, the pain he tolerated was indescribable. I was struck dumb
thousand folds. Not even a single word came to my mouth. Only the whispers of
mind wandered amidst the crowd. Abruptly, the thought of uncertainty clicked
and reminded me that my days are also numbered and anytime, it may expunge my
name from the list. Filled by the fear, I said some prayers immediately to calm
my mind. But the more prayers I murmured, vaster the fear piled.

In the practices of
bodhisattvas, the body is compared to an inn in which our very soul has
sojourned. To check in and to check out is nobody’s assurance. So is inextricable
death. It tails us like our own shades. It doesn’t compromise on smart,
beautiful, rags or riches rather level them all indiscriminately. Rivulets of
tear ran down his face as the emotions overwhelmed. He couldn’t keep his
silence anymore. Perhaps, everybody felt the same impulse. I, on the other side
felt like an inanimate objects because of the alarm. Steadily, I was sparked by
the reality as more people amassed. The cry intensified in the next room which
accelerated my delirium.

I stood on the square not knowing what to do.

In fact, the call has
alerted everyone present there. Some offered butter lamps while others chanted
for the well-being of the lost soul. Everybody wore that tensioned looks on
their faces as if it were their last day on the earth. As the cry receded, the
room grew more and more silent but the pain in everyone’s heart thickened. The
anomaly of life is more of fading instants than mere happiness, I pondered. The
room was gradually congested with air of melancholy and everyone was grief
stricken.

I felt deserted by my
own soul and thought for the safest place on the earth. It dreaded me even
more. For a moment I deluded myself trying to escape the unavoidable. If it was
not for his mother’s death, I would have never thought of the uncertainty of
human life. The fear was injected instantly. Shortly after comforting my mind,
I went near him and tried convincing his. To converge and to diverge is way of
life, I uttered, to which he nodded forlornly. He then retorted tentatively, I
wish I was never born.

I pitied and said when
life beats us heavily, we should give in gracefully.

Perhaps, the end has retold
me to live meaningfully. Quarter of my life had been duped thinking about the
future, even when my present was not certain. I felt sad not because of
ephemeral time but because of the lack of my own inner wealth to comprehend the
way of life. His eyes were puffed-up badly. At the crack of the midnight,
consolers vacated leaving insurmountable hollowness aside. This exodus exactly
depicted how our own soul escapes from us. The family decided to leave for
funeral the same morning.

I headed back home alone
chanting OM MANI PADME HUNG for the deceased and for the entire sentient
beings.